


my best part

by iridescence (10softbot)



Series: the grinch who wrote christmas [1]
Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Christmas Cookies, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28184652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10softbot/pseuds/iridescence
Summary: Kevin bakes too many Christmas cookies. Feeling helpless, he dials up the only person he knows can help him with this problem he has created for himself.
Relationships: Bae Joonyoung | Jacob/Moon Hyungseo | Kevin
Series: the grinch who wrote christmas [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064672
Comments: 13
Kudos: 95





	my best part

**Author's Note:**

  * For [joonyoungs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joonyoungs/gifts).



> welcome, everyone, to day one of five days of christmas from yours truly, where i'll be posting small gifts for my friends because i am more than happy to have them in my life and they deserve good things after a rough year.
> 
> **Do not translate or respost my work anywhere. I do not consent to reposting or translating of any of my works.**

Kevin knows he is in trouble when he finds himself standing in the middle of his small kitchen with enough cookie dough to cover every inch of his counter, as well as his dining table. He can feel his joints hurt and his palm sore from pressing on his cookie cutter – it has been _two hours_ and he is barely just done with the cutting. He looks at his oven with pained eyes; there are about two minutes left on the timer for the first batch.

He heaves a sigh, body sliding down the counter until he hits the floor. Kevin knows that, if he closes his eyes for more than five seconds, he could easily fall asleep, tiredness aching on his knees like it usually does when he decides to bake something new. And, honestly, while he’s not exactly new to cookies, Christmas baking is not something he has done before – and, at this point, isn’t really sure he ever wants to do again.

It is the day before Christmas eve, and Kevin wants to cancel the entire holiday altogether.

By the time the last tray is out of the oven, cooled down and every cookie is covered in ridiculously green icing, it is dark outside and his apartment is chillingly cold. He throws his apron in the washing machine, reaches for his phone, and snaps a picture of the nightmare that is his kitchen, promptly sending it to his family’s group chat like he had promised to. Kevin scrolls through his recent calls, hitting the contact he knows best to call in situations of distress.

_“Hello?”_ the familiar voice greets from the other end of the line.

“Jake, this is an emergency,” Kevin says, voice serious before whining out, “please come help me.”

_“What have you done? I thought you were baking today?”_

Kevin sighs, hitting his forehead against the wall. “I was. I did, actually, but now I have enough cookies to feed an army!”

The sound of rustling sheets is loud and it makes Kevin smile to himself at the knowledge he has managed to convince him so easily.

_“I see,”_ Jacob says, voice strained like he is trying to multitask while talking on the phone. Kevin can perfectly picture him, with his phone squished between his face and his shoulder, tongue poking out as he puts some pants on. _“I’m sold and on my way.”_

“You’re the best,” he chimes, waiting for Jacob to hum in response before hanging up.

He gives his kitchen one last glance, muscles sore from hours of work, before turning on his heels and making his way to the bathroom. His reflection on the mirror is pitiful, to say the least – with his hair looking like a bird’s nest and his clothes covered in both flour and sugar despite having worn an apron, Kevin wonders how he manages to do this every single time.

He checks his messages one last time as he steps out of his clothes and into the shower, a smile spreading on his lips when he reads a message from his sister, completely roasting him, followed by a picture of Jacob, all bundled up in his winter clothes as he makes the short walk down the street and to Kevin’s apartment.

Kevin almost runs under the shower, washing the residual flour off his hair and skin as best as he can. He barely has a fresh pair of sweatpants on when he hears the digital lock of his front door beep, the sound of Jacob's quiet footsteps carrying all the way to his bedroom. Not a beat later he hears Jacob gasp, and Kevin knows he must’ve seen the state of his every kitchen surface.

He makes his way back into the living room, towel hung around his neck, greeting Jacob with a smile. When Jacob turns to look at him, winter coat barely past his shoulders, his eyes are almost as wide as saucers, lips parted in surprise.

“I told you,” Kevin says, trying not to laugh at Jacob's expression.

“I thought you were joking,” Jacob pretty much sputters, finally shrugging his coat all the way off and hanging it on the back of Kevin’s door.

“Absolutely not, my sister must be roasting me in the chat still for it,” he waves his phone around before tossing it on the couch, padding over to the cookies and giving them a once-over with fresh eyes. “I must say, though, they don’t look so bad.”

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Jacob scoffs, reaching for one and bringing it up to eye-level, as if to inspect it. “Kev, they look _amazing.”_

Kevin tries not to smile, mentally patting himself on the back for managing to pull this off so smoothly. Or, really, as smoothly as possible. He moves around Jacob and grabs a handful of serving plates, arranging as many cookies into piles as he’ll manage to carry without dropping, and passing them off to Jacob, telling him to set them on the coffee table. He takes two mugs out of the cabinet.

“Hey, do you want some wine?” he calls out, looking back at Jacob with the fridge door open. Jacob raises a questioning brow at him. “Boxed, cheap as fuck.”

“Fine dining,” Jacob says with a laugh and a nod. “Going _all out_ for me, I see.”

“Only the best for the best,” Kevin retorts, cheeky, throwing him a corny wink as he kicks the door closed. “Hey, at least it’s not canned.”

“I don’t see how that makes it any better, honestly,” Jacob's voice is full of humor, no real bite to it. He scoots over where he is now sitting on the couch, making space for Kevin to sit with the boxed wine and mugs. “Why did you make so many cookies, anyway? It’s not like you’re throwing a Christmas party.”

Kevin sighs, handing one of the mugs to Jacob. “I’m bad with portions, you know this. It’s either too much or too little, every fucking time.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky to have me?” Kevin knows it’s supposed to be a joke, but he still can’t help the way his heart tugs just a little bit. The feeling isn’t foreign, but he pushes it down like he has done so many times before. “So, what’s the plan? Watch movies and eat until we die of a sugar high?”

Kevin nods, pouring them some of the wine.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

As usual movie nights go, Jacob lets Kevin pick whatever movie he wants; Kevin makes it a mission to make them watch the worst Christmas movies the Netflix catalogue has to offer. They are halfway through the third movie and two plates of cookies down when Jacob calls it quits, groaning as he slides down the couch, complaining that he is too full. Kevin chuckles, having stopped eating at some point during movie number two, pausing the movie and promptly turning the tv off.

He turns on his seat to look at Jacob, who barely looks up at him.

“You didn’t have to try and eat _all_ the cookies tonight,” Kevin points out, the corners of his lips tugging up into a smile when Jacob sits back up. “You can take some home.”

“I _know,”_ Jacob whines. “But they’re _good,_ like, addictingly good. Can you blame a man?”

Kevin snorts a laugh. “Why, thank you, sir.”

There is silence for a while, and it’s not uncomfortable by any means. Kevin watches as Jacob knocks back the lasts of his wine, setting the mug on the coffee table and making himself comfortable on the couch once again. Only, this time, he turns on his seat too, staring right back at Kevin.

Kevin hates to admit how good Jacob still manages to look under the shitty lights of his cramped apartment.

“Hey, Kev,” Jacob's voice is a whisper, sounding almost strained. Kevin hums, letting him know he’s paying attention – which he knows isn’t needed, because Jacob can _see_ him looking back at him. Jacob raises a finger up to his own mouth. “You’ve got—”

Kevin hurriedly wipes at his general mouth area, not sure if Jacob is pointing at cookie crumbs or wine stains. Jacob laughs, and the sound only makes Kevin wipe harder at his skin.

“Is it off?” he asks, turning his face this way and that. Jacob shakes his head.

“Let me—” before Kevin can reply or flinch away, Jacob raises his hand up to Kevin’s face, gently cupping his jaw as he wipes his thumb softly at the corner of his mouth.

Kevin can feel his face heating up and he can’t even tell if it’s because of the wine or not, but then Jacob is close, too close, his movements happening almost in slow motion; gently, slowly, he runs his thumb from the corner of Kevin’s lips to his cheek, rubbing the skin ever so softly. There is a look in his eyes that Kevin knows to recognize but doesn’t really get the chance to witness in any vaguely sober state of being.

He can feel his throat go dry.

“Jacob,” he says, voice almost a whisper, afraid that if he speaks any louder the moment will break. Jacob's eyes flit up from his lips, holding his gaze. “Are you about to kiss me?”

The corners on Jacob's lips twitch as he tries to stop himself from smiling. “I am about to kiss you, yeah.”

And then Kevin feels like he is being thrown in the eye of a hurricane when Jacob leans in and closes the gap between them. Jacob's lips are warm and soft against his, and the kiss only lasts a few seconds before Jacob pulls away. Kevin is frozen in place, eyes as wide as Jacob's had been just a few hours prior, fingers gripping tightly onto his mug.

“Are you drunk?” is the first thing that comes out of Kevin’s mouth, his voice shaky. Jacob shakes his head no, settling back in his seat. “You just kissed me.”

Jacob nods. “I just kissed you.”

“Sober?” Kevin confirms.

“I like you, man, I don’t know how much clearer I can make this,” Jacob says, casual as ever, like he is talking about the weather, like he is not throwing Kevin in for a loop. “And if I’m not too far off on my judgement, I think you kinda like me too.”

_Kinda._ Kevin wants to laugh.

“We’ve never kissed sober,” is what Kevin says, simply because he can’t wrap his head around Jacob's words for the life of him. “We’ve never— _talked_ about it sober.”

“Marry me,” it’s like Jacob isn’t even listening, and Kevin has to put his mug down in order to assess him properly.

He raises a hand to Jacob's forehead. “Are you running a fever? Have you lost your mind? I’m never letting you have this much sugar again.”

“Kev,” Jacob's voice is gentle when he wraps his fingers around his wrist, bringing Kevin’s hand down so it rests on his chest. Kevin can feel Jacob's heart thrumming under his fingertips, just as quickly as his own. “I’m serious. You’re my best friend, I think you’re pretty rad, and I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life with you. If not because you like me, then let’s do it for the tax benefit.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Kevin mutters under his breath, curling his fingers into Jacob's sweater. “At least take me on a date first.”

“This is a date,” Jacob grins and Kevin frowns. “This can be a date. I’m calling it one.”

“This is not a date,” Kevin says, sounding almost offended. “This is _not_ a date.”

But Jacob is resolute about it. “We kissed, this is definitely a date. Want me to do it again?” before Kevin can sputter out a no, Jacob pulls him in and kisses him again, harder this time, almost bruising. Kevin whines, lightly pushing him away.

“You’re the _worst,”_ he pouts. “This is so not romantic.”

“Says the guy who served me boxed wine?”

“Okay, fine!” he sighs. _“Fine.”_

“Okay?” Jacob searches his eyes for confirmation.

Kevin nods. _“Yes._ I think you’re pretty neat, too, or whatever. You better give me a nice ring to make up for this.”

Jacob's lips pull into the brightest smile as he leans in and kisses Kevin again, again, and again, sweeter, gentler, like they have never kissed in their drunken adventures before. Kevin can feel himself blush, like the teenager that he had once been, with a terrible case of feelings for his best friend that never really faded away. Jacob pulls back, smile still wide on his face.

“Only the best for the best.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you've reached this point, thank you for reading! and i hope you found this at least a little warm because i sure loved writing this. love mb to the moon and back man  
> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/changminize) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/changminize)


End file.
